Percy at Hogwarts
by PJO6
Summary: When Percy begins teaching at Hogwarts, many theories are cast. Harry has a mission: to find out Percy's secret. Why does he keep mention demigods? Who is Annabeth? Why do water fountains keep exploding? Follow the two as they discover secrets about both worlds!
1. Chapter 1

"Ron, this isn't a good idea," Hermione protested as Ron tore past the sea of endless people. Ron briefly glanced back at Hermione. "C'mon. Everyone's doing it!" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just because everyone is doing it, doesn't mean it's right," Hermione stated swiftly, crossing her arms. "Well-" Harry bit his tongue. A knot twisted in his stomach. Not because of spying on the new teacher, but because of the new teacher. Rumors spread like wildfires, all different things. Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of this teacher. He wasn't sure he wanted to know more about his teacher. He kept quiet, hoping Ron would have a sudden change of heart and just wait until class started. But no. That would never happen in a million years.

"Hurry up!" Ron chided, and it took a few moments for Harry to realize that it was directed toward him.

"Um, yeah, sure. But, Ron. Realistically, what secrets are we going to learn by peeking through the door?" Harry reasoned. Hermione nodded, a grin dancing across her lips. I could see she appreciated my support. I nodded back at her, forcing an uneasy smile. I didn't have the heart to tell her my support was entirely for selfish reasons.

"Almost there," Ron murmured, approaching the door. He tiptoed up to the foyer, though no one could hear him walking, anyhow. The halls were bustling with people. Ron peered into the "Defense Against the Dark Arts" classroom. Sure, enough, a new teacher sat at the desk. Harry studied his features, trying to stifle a gasp. He looked no more than 18; not a suitable age for a teacher. Though Harry could be wrong. He did give off the vibe of experience, the look on his face was vacant and empty. He looked tired and old, though he couldn't be. He just couldn't be. He had dark black hair and a sharp stunning face. But his eyes...the sea green colour couldn't be more...nothing could really describe them.

He was talking on the class telephone, his eyes staring off into the distance. Harry wondered why he didn't just use a cell phone.

"No, no," he sighed. Harry could just barely make out a muffled response.

"Okay. It's okay. Just wrap his arm. That should stop the bleeding. I'll be there soon. Love you," he said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. He was away from home. Harry closed his eyes. This felt wrong. Everything about this felt wrong. _Blood._ Well, wherever home was, Harry didn't want to visit. It sounded plain scary. And who was he talking to? Did he have a wife? A girlfriend? Was that his mom? Harry's mind swirled with questions.

He turned to face Ron, but he was nowhere in sight. Harry took a deep breath. He desperately wanted answers, but he had to wait until he was in the new teacher's class. That couldn't be too far off, could it? Maybe the new teacher would give some sort of explanation as to who he was, or why the heck he was talking about bloody arms over the phone. Harry smiled, satisfied at his solution. Time to wait. And wait. And wait even more.

 _Hey guys! So this was the first installment of Percy at Hogwarts (sorry for the lame title)! I have pre-written the first few installments so expect those in a few days. Thank you so much for reading. Please comment, review, or even follow for even more epic adventures with more fandom characters!_


	2. Chapter 2

The day went by as slow as molasses. In winter. And petrified, too. He sat through his classes, trying to stay alert and attentive, but the words seemed to come in one ear and slip out the other. Who is he? Harry thought to himself. His curiosity grew like a sponge in water, gradually becoming larger and larger.

Finally, he went to his class. The new teacher's class. Ron sat smack dab behind him. Hermione was front and center. Harry came to the conclusion that she was curious, too, but Hermione sat in the front row every class she'd ever been to. As Harry took his seat, he realized that the teacher wasn't there. His heart began to race. Where was he? What was he doing? Harry tried to calm down, reminding himself that he was getting worked up about a guy he had yet to meet. Maybe that was the problem.

As Harry began to study the teacher's messy desk, the new teacher appeared in the foyer. His hair was messed up in an endearing way. Harry was beginning to think that that was his girlfriend on the phone.

"Hello, class," he grinned, sliding into his seat. He spun once or twice, and returned his gaze to us. Harry could hear Hermione ticking her fingers against her desk. She didn't seem to be the only one uncomfortable with this dude's humorous disposition.

"I am Mr. Jackson, but you may call me...Mr. Jackson. Yes, that works," he decided. He spoke swiftly and calmly, like a hippie New Yorker. He had thick-rimmed glasses. Hermione's hand shot up. Mr. Jackson raised his eyebrow, as if not expecting a question so early.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he answered. Harry flinched.

"How did you know her name?" Harry demanded, not thinking. Mr. Jackson smiled and tilted his head to see him straight.

"I know many things, Mr. Potter," he replied, a mysterious twinkle in his eye. Harry shook uncomfortably. Who was this guy?

"Continue, Miss Granger," he said, returning his attention to her.

"Well, Mr. Jackson, I know you are new here, but we usually take out our books right about now," Hermione commented.

She looked him up and down, as if not quite sure what to make of him.

"Why, that's a fine idea. Take out your books!" he called to the class, though it was more for dramatic effect. Harry picked up his book and slammed it on his table, unintentionally. The more he spent time with this guy, the more he...well, he just couldn't sit still. Hermione already had hers taken out, so she just folded her hands and sat patiently.

"May I borrow this? I don't have a copy," Mr. Jackson inquired. Hermione shrugged, handing her book to him. Harry never seen a teacher without the book. But the most shocking thing was that Harry had never seen Hermione without a book. Ever. He smiled.

"Now, what to do, what to do," he began, as if clearly confused. He flipped through the pages, and frowned. It was as if he couldn't read.

"Read," Ron muttered. "Read the book."

Mr. Jackson's ears perked up. He turned almost robotically around to face Ron.

"First things first," he began, placing his hand firmly on Ron's desk. Harry never seen Ron so frightened. "You will not question my teaching habits. Second of all, you will not question anything I say. I have a lot more experience with this than any of you."

Voice slick, eyes cold. Harry could never fear anyone more. He looked directly at Ron, his eyes full of anger. Run shrunk in his seat, eyes wide.

"Yes, pro..professor," he stuttered. Mr. Jackson nodded and headed up the aisle, studying each and every terrified wizard. Then, he faced the class with a beaming smile. Quite a turn of events, if you asked Harry. This dude seemed indecisive.

"Who's ready to begin?" he asked cheerfully. The class uneasily nodded, along with Harry. He couldn't disobey this man. He tossed the book Hermione had given him back and forth between his hands. And then he threw it across the room. Hermione gasped.

"No!" she shrieked. She ran to her book. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if she started to give it CPR.

"Relax," Mr. Jackson said, but coming from him, it seemed like an order. Harry was terribly puzzled.

"We won't be using our books today. You won't have your books to reference to when there is an attack, will you?" The way he sounded so sure of an attack was unnerving.

"So, let's learn some combat!" He looked like a little boy on Christmas. He swung his fists through the air, as if attacking an invisible punching bag. He scanned the room. Before Harry knew what was happening, Mr. Jackson's hand landed on his desk. Harry swallowed hard. He became quite dizzy, actually. He had to fight this guy? With no magic? Harry was about ready to faint. The room became dark and fuzzy. Even Mr. Jackson's concerned face was blurred. He slumped down in his chair, no longer aware of what was going on.

He woke up to Mr. Jackson's face. It was full of love and concern.

"Harry? Harry," he sighed. His cheeks were wet, but Harry couldn't picture him, of all people crying.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Harry wearily sat up. His eyes fluttered open. He found himself in Mr. Jackson's lap. He felt like a wimp.

"Are you okay?" he repeated. Harry tried to respond, but his throat was dry. He had never been so embarrassed in his life.

"My...throat," Harry croaked. Mr. Jackson looked him in the eye. Suddenly, his throat wasn't so dry. It was like someone had just dumped a gallon of water in his mouth. Harry was stunned, baffled in fact.

"Sir...what just...how?" Harry couldn't process what had just happened. Mr. Jackson shrugged the questions off. The class had begun to crowd around the scene.

"Harry?"

"What happened?"

"Why did he faint?"

Harry's eyes stung. If he were physically able to get up, he would be out of there, but something odd happened whenever he did. Mr. Jackson's grip on him tightened. He seemed to root Harry to his lap. Harry was not the least bit pleased about this.

"Mr. Jackson, please let me go," Harry finally spoke. Mr. Jackson closed his eyes and sighed.

"Harry, be careful." Harry didn't know what that meant but he wasn't willing to find out just then. He just wanted to crawl into a ball and stay like that forever. Harry slipped back into his seat, trying to ignore the vast majority of people staring at him. Harry's ears were ringing so terribly loud he couldn't hear the homework assignment. All he could hear was his pulse. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Like the ticking of a clock, it continued until the end of class.

"Class dismissed!" Mr. Jackson called out. Harry slowly walked past Mr. Jackson's desk. He turned to look at him. Mr. Jackson nodded to the doorway. Harry reluctantly obliged.

"My wand!" Harry yelped, and rushed into the classroom to find his wand. Mr. Jackson's back was facing him. In and out, Harry reminded himself. In and out.

He rummaged through the supplies, but his wand was nowhere to be found. Mr. Jackson slowly turned around, giving Harry enough time to scramble behind a bookcase. It felt wrong to eavesdrop, but after that day, Harry was dying to know this man's story. Harry spotted the telephone pressed up against his ear. Mr. Jackson's breath slowed. He put the phone down and sat in his chair, beginning to look through papers. Harry stifled a sigh. He wasn't going to talk to anyone.

"Percy? Percy?" the telephone sang. Mr. Jackson sat up, alert and seemingly frightened. "Annabeth?' he responded to the voice. "Where are you?"

The sweet voice chuckled a little.

"At camp. You put me on speaker." Mr. Jackson relaxed his shoulders.

"How's work?" the girl named "Annabeth" questioned.

"Good, I guess. It's just hard because we're...yeah...and they're some sort of magical wizard people." Harry sucked a deep breath in. Mr. Jackson wasn't a wizard? Who was he? And where was camp?

"Really? I thought they were half-bloods. I guessed sons and daughters of Hecate. I mean, wasn't their motto, 'Knowledge is magic'? And wizards? Really? That sounds like a comic book." Comic book? Really?

"Nope, apparently they're wizards. They don't know about us, though, thank the gods." Harry shifted uncomfortably at the way Mr. Jackson said god as plural. What was with him?

"There's one named Harry Potter. He's...different. And fainted today, and I'm hoping it wasn't because of me. Do I intimidate people?" There was a long pause. "Not exactly. Just sometimes...well-" "Okay, okay, I get it. But I kind of sort of used water with him to help his throat and all that soo, yeah." "Percy!" Annabeth yelled. "I know, but he needed help, okay? I needed to...Hey, Annabeth?" Mr. Jackson said oddly. He almost seemed...afraid. What was he afraid of?

"Yes, Percy?" she replied, attentive and sure.

"I can't be a teacher," Mr. Jackson gushed. "I have dyslexia, and ADHD. That would be all well and good if I weren't also a HALF-BLOOD. They're so different from me. I just wish you were here."

Dyslexia? ADHD? Half-Blood? All these terms swirled around in Harry's mind. What did they mean?

"Perseus Jackson, you listen to me! You will be absolutely fine. Blow up a water fountain or something. Take a swim. Do what you like to do! Just remember the most important thing: be you. But don't forget to pretend not to be you. I'll come. Don't worry. Love you!"

Well, Annabeth was sure fiery. Harry was almost...hypnotized by it. But she and Mr. Jackson had to be a thing, right? Harry didn't really care either. He had Jinny.

"Annabeth?" Mr. Jackson asked one more time.

"Yes?" she answered slowly.

"Next time let's iris message. After 19 years of never having a phone, I don't really want to start."

"Whatever, Seaweed Brain. Love you."

"Love you, too." And then Mr. Jackson hung up.

He had wonder and bliss and sadness in his eyes, all at once. What did blowing up a water fountain and swimming have to do with calming his nerves? Why did he call himself a half-blood? Wasn't Snape the half-blood prince? What kind of name was Perseus? And why did he mention Harry? What did Harry have to do with all this? He sighed. Harry could hardly take it all in.

"Mr. Potter?" Mr. Jackson called. Harry froze. Mr. Jackson opened and closed the door, seemingly looking for Harry. Once, Mr. Jackson saw he was safe, he did something quite odd. He took out a pen.

 _Hi guys! Thank you so much for following and reviewing and liking. It literally means the world to me! I hope you guys like this installment. Don't forget to follow, like and review. Bye!_


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